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More Than an Award

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I had worked the whole season for this day. Dreaming since sixth grade to stand up in front of everyone and accepting the MVP award for basketball. Standing in the decorated gym with everyone cheering for me; holding the award and getting my picture taken. Getting this award was all I had worked for this season I never really pushed myself to get better. Maybe I had worked to hard just to get an award and hadn’t pushed myself hard enough to get better.


The day of the athletic banquet I got really sick and could not attend the banquet. Devastated, I kept asking God why this had happened; I couldn’t understand. This was my year to get all the awards and be the star athlete and now I couldn’t even be there to enjoy it. Instead I was lying on the couch feeling like I was about to die. I had never hurt this bad I just wanted it to stop I couldn’t stand the pain or throwing up everything in my stomach. Everything that came up looked like my dog’s wet dog food. It was brown and disgusting it reminded me of road kill, which made me even sicker. As I sat on the couch in pain, but feeling better than before I decided to call my friend and ask her how the athletic banquet was going. When she picked up she said, “Hey Jess what’s up how you felling?”


“Not to great but better than I was feeling this morning!” I replied, “how is the athletic banquet going?” I asked excitedly.

“Well actually you just got most dedicated,” she replied. My first thought was No way I got most dedicated for soccer! How could this be though I wasn’t that good. I figured though that it couldn’t be basketball or softball though. I had worked all season for that award and put my all into getting MVP so it had to be for soccer. “For which sport?” I asked just to make sure.

“Basketball!” she replied in a wondering tone of why I had asked. When I heard this all my emotions changed. The only thing I had worked for was this award, and it had been given to someone who didn’t care. She never worked hard at practice wasn’t a team leader and didn’t care about the team. Unlike her I was a team leader and I dedicated everything I had to practice and playing but it had not paid off. Devastated about not getting the award my stomach began to hurt. It wasn’t from being sick it was from disappointment, surprise and wanting to cry. As I remember that I was still on the phone with my friend I asked with a sigh. “Ohhh ok anything else?”
“Well, you also got MVP for softball and you and Ricky got the scholar athlete award!” she gushed.

“That’s great, well thank I got to go,”I sighed. When I got off the phone I was still in shock. I still couldn’t understand why I hadn’t gotten the award. I thought maybe my coach was blind and never looked at me. I had always taken controlled when we started to mess around I always worked the hardest and tried to be the best example. I was at every practiced I never really worked though to make me the best I only worked as hard as I had to get the award.
In retrospect, I thought of the two biggest reasons why I had deserved the award. My first thought was when I made varsity as a sixth grader. There were thirty-five girls and only twelve were picked to be on varsity. I was one of those twelve that were picked and I was a 6th grader. I remember feeling so special and excited that I had made the team; I thought By the time I was an 8th grader I would be the best and work the hardest to bet he MVP, it was all I had wanted. Gloomy I sat on my couch thinking about the second reason why I had deserved this award. I thought of my whole season and all the leadership I showed. The hardest game of the year I played the whole game I lead the team the whole time; I tried my hardest and gave my all. There was sweat coming form every part of my body, my hands were shaking and my body ached. The team was supposed to pass to me to get the winning basket. We lost by one point, and after I was infuriated, frustrated and disappointed in myself that I had let this happen to my team. At the same time my dad had told me that my coach had liked the way I stepped up as a leader. That made me feel better, the leadership and hard work I had put into to being MVP was finally paying off and being noticed. Also I remembered all the points I had scored. I never like the felling of think I was better than some one but I did think that I was pretty good. I had scored over 100+ points in the season. My biggest point scoring was at our homecoming I had fifteen points I was the first one to score and I remember how amazing it felt. Screaming fans with clappers, dressed in red and white going crazy cheering for me when I scored. This was the most amazing felling ever, the only felling better I though would be standing up at the athletic banquet and being recognized for all my hard work. Frustrated, as I came back to reality I started to think of just how much I had put into getting an award. I was good but I had done nothing the make me the best that. I only wanted to be good enough to win an award.
To this day I still don’t know why I didn’t get the award. Maybe it was because the award was all I worked for I didn’t want to get better I just wanted to get an award that showed how good I was. It wasn’t really about being great it was bout a shiny object. I now realize it’s not about pushing to get an award it is about pushing yourself to get better. Sure MVP is the best but most dedicated shows your good and how hard you work. I now play basketball for Houston Christian High School. I push my self every day to do things that I never thought I could do. During the summer I played with varsity for a few games, it pushed me to play at a higher level, to work harder and play better. Everyday now and again I play basketball, lift weights and run I do all of these so I can be better. Everything I used to so it would be noticed and I would get some award or prize of it. Every thing I do now I do it for my team and me to win. This year I have not thought about getting an award at all, I push myself to do better and I practice to make me better not so I can just get an award.





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